


Bad Decisions

by bearscp



Category: Homestuck
Genre: First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, fake dating au, john is 16 dirk is 20 tagged underage just in case, lots of macks and hesitant losers, mentioned daverezi, patented strider angst, surprisingly quick burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 23:20:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5762860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearscp/pseuds/bearscp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You mean you want to date me, to get my brother to notice you? Holy shit, even I've never stooped so low. Can you see where I dropped my morals from down there? I've been looking for ages, but can never quite match that extreme depth. Help me Antman, you're my only hope."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Earrings Turn Men Gay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave has a rap blog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this dirk is like an amalgamation of him and bro n still plays fucky mindgames on dave and bad shit like that but Spoiler Alert he's gonna start bein a good guy and realizing how much he's distanced himself from dave via being a total douche!!:^)

"You mean you want to date me, to get my brother to notice you? Holy shit, even I've never stooped so low. Can you see where I dropped my morals from down there? I've been looking for ages, but can never quite match that extreme depth. Help me Antman, you're my only hope."

Even if he can't see your eyes and mostly red cheeks past the shades, you still feel like you're gonna be sick. How can he not know? It's not like you're exactly vague about it. He's just as dense as your bro sometimes with this shit.

You swivel back around in your chair to focus on your work, totally not so he doesn't see your face. Nope.

"Please, Dirk! I know we don't really talk without Dave or Jane around, but this'd be doing me a huge favor." John steps closer to the table you're hunched over, so you can see him out of the corner of your eye. You're a little miffed he didn't even laugh at your joke. "I'll owe you! And an Egbert is nothing if not his word!" He gives you this big cheeky grin, showing off his buckteeth, and putting a hand over his heart.

You straighten back up and give him a look over your shades.

"John, how many times have I told you to call me Mr. Strider?" He giggles at that, and you untense a bit now safe and secure in your hilarity. For some reason that gets him every time. Probably some aftereffect from all those 80's movies he steals from your collection. "Even if I said yes, I'm too old for you."

You're not, not legally, anyway. John's a junior in highschool, you're a sophomore in college. It's legal, you know it is. Hours lamenting over his age after you'd started college led you to the internet where all your hopes had been confirmed. Didn't make you feel any less creepy most of the time, though.

"Um, dude. You're twenty."

"And you're sixteen. I think that'd be fucked up, especially to Dave," you sigh. Dave was another reason you'd never gone after John. Kid always had a crush on the little black haired loser, ever since they were just little. 'Course, now Dave was finally getting over him with that new girl he'd been bringing around. Took him long enough to see she even liked him. But if he found out John was into him now? Even Hal couldn't predict what would happen, and he spends more time with Dave than you do.

"It's not like it's for real!" John laughs. He doesn't mean it at you, but you can't help to feel that way. You turn back to your work, and you see him frown from behind your shades. Dave's xbox isn't going to fix itself.

"Aren't you straight?" You hope that came out as relaxed as possible as you pick up your soldering gun. Obviously, he can't be if he likes Dave. But you have to hear him say he's not. You have to be sure.

He rolls his eyes at you. "After getting over the whole 'relationships aren't like in the movies' thing, I kinda realized that I wanted to try new stuff. Explore, or whatever. Seeing Dave date dudes helped, too." He pauses, looking away, and your hands fidget against the wires you're trying to hold in place. "I guess I'm bi? I'm still figuring it out." John smiles nervously, even though as far as he knows you can't see his expression.

"I think it's the earrings that turned you gay, Egbert," you say without looking up.

So that's how it is. He really likes Dave, not you. You mean, that's fine of course. It'd be best for John to date someone his own age anyway. Dave's your little brother, you don't talk to him much, but you know the kid's a better guy than you could ever be already. Good for John, trying to go after someone like that. Good for you, too. Maybe now you can finally get over him.

A hand on your shoulder brings you back to reality. The solder almost drops onto the wrong circuit, but you keep your cool.

"So, are you in?"

"Don't you think it's a little mean to play Dave like that? And jesus, what about the girl he likes?"

"They're not even serious! If I don't try now, I'll always wonder what it could've been like! I can't let him slip through my fingers, Bro, this is the only thing I can do now," he groans out.

"Well, I mean, just a thought here but you could walk up to him and say how you feel."

"Dave isn't gonna realize he still likes me if I do that. He's gotta figure it out on his own how he feels, I just wanna give him a push in the right direction."

"When the hell did you find out he liked you before?"

"Um, his rap blog? Even I'm not that stupid, dude," he beams at you.

Right. Even he's not that stupid to notice someone that likes him that he sees everyday.

This is so shitty. You're mad at yourself, and you haven't even said yes yet. But you're going to. You know you are. The whole plan sounds like it's gonna end messy, but you can't stop yourself. You would've said yes if he came in here and asked for Hal's codes after you got one look at him. John's eyes always melt you into a puddle of frantic heartbeats and nervous fidgeting. It's gay, mega gay, and you can't even help yourself.

You just hope Dave forgives you for this.

"Fine, okay. I'll do it." You sigh out as John throws an arm around your shoulder and squeezes you in, choking off your exhale. He's always been the touchy feely type, and you can't say you mind. Even when you can't breathe and you're holding a superheated metal melter. "Air, Egbert."

He lets go in a hurry, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. "Whoops sorry, forget my own strength sometimes, heh."

Why in God's green earth had Dave told him to join the football team? Had to be just to fuck with you personally. There's no way he could know how you feel about John, but this was definitely a personal vendetta against you. A strife early tomorrow should fix that.

You swivel back to the side to face John head on, being careful to hold your tool still over the table.

"So, should I change my facebook status to 'it's complicated' or 'engaged'?" Before he can respond, you tap your leg in exasperation. "God, I'm an idiot. Of course it all depends on what kind of handholding you wanna do. Christ, should've started with that. Do you want to do criss-crossed, or just vanilla?"

"Vanilla I guess? Wait, no!" He bites his lip, a pretty bad habit. "Are you okay with that kind of thing?"

"John, I have been all over that ass since gradeschool, and by that I mean the last two years. Of course I'm okay with that kind of thing. It's gotta be believable, right?" John eyes you like he's actually going to realize you aren't spouting some kind of bullshit irony for once, but with a shrug of his shoulders the look is gone.

"Okay so, PDA is cool, then? I really think Dave won't think we aren't pranking without it."

"Shit's the surface of Neptune, I swear." You give him a rare smile, and he eats it up, returning it with his own.

"Then, let's get started!" John claps you on the back, and you drop the soldering iron onto the plastic casing of the game system.

John laughs like he isn't sure what else to do. "Oops, sorry!"

Thankfully, Dave will never think you made a mistake and instead spend weeks trying to figure out the meaning of the melted plastic.

But by god, John's going to be the end of you.

You both hear a door slam, and John jumps with the noise.

"Fuck that's him, should we. Um. Start right now? What do we do? He's gonna think something's up if we're just talking alone in your workshop!" John starts panicking, running his hands through his hair.

"Bro, I'm home. I grabbed taco bell. Look I know you said you'd try to cook tonight, but let's be real I have an exam tomorrow and I just can't be hooked up to an IV during it like last time. Teach ain't exactly gonna let that slide, and the drip makes me have to whizz." Dave's sneakers down the hall are about as loud as your heartbeat. Holy shit. You're doing this, you're making it happen.

"Dude, shut up, follow my lead." You whisper to John, quickly unplugging your soldering gun and stand up to face him. To your left is the door, alright, should be a perfect view. You clip your shades to your polo, looking John in the eye.

"What're you-" John immediately stops as he sees your expression and you set your hands on either side of his face. You press your thumbs to his cheeks, feeling his soft hair on the tips of your fingers. Your eyes are the most expressive part of you, and you hope with all your muscle that John doesn't see into your feelings right now; hope that he doesn't pull away.

You never thought this was how it was gonna go, but you'll take what you get thrust upon you.

"They have some new one dollar meal thing with quesadillas, and I know we only have twenty bucks left on our food budget this week, so I only grabbed nine for each of us. That leaves a solid dollar after tax for one of us to use a massage chair at the mall."

You tilt his head a little to the left, gazing down onto his face. He's shorter than you now, but you've stopped growing and he still has a long way to go. His eyebrows are shot up, and his mouth is a little agape. It occurs to you that this is the first time he's seen your eyes for more than a second when you hear Dave stop outside the door.

There's a short knock, and he starts to turn the knob. "Yo Bro, you even home right now or am I gonna have to eat all of these. I mean I'm not complaining but-"

You bring John's lips to yours, softer than you'd planned. You give him the kind of kiss you reserved for someone that really matters, and you push two years of pining after him into it. His lips are warm, moulding perfectly against your own. Where your chests meet you can feel his heartbeat match your own. Your cheeks are burning. You peek an eye open to see John's are too. His eyes are closed, and his brows are drawn up, confused.

Something drops to your side, and you break the kiss to look over.

Oh right. Dave.

"What. The actual. Fuck?!" Dave's looking between the two of you. You can see his eyes through his shades from the light behind him in the hall. He must not know. "What? John did my bro just come onto you? Holy shit bro what the fuck are you doing did you just try to jump his bones without even asking? How did?" He looks back to John from you. "Don't you have practice today? Why are you here I thought we couldn't study together tonight because of that I already invited Terezi over wait fuck you just kissed my BRO did he kiss you or did you kiss him what's happening am I awake no this is a dream. I'm dreaming." He starts laughing and you think he's broken.

"Not a dream, dude," John answers for you, wrapping an arm around your waist. You feel equal parts happy and horrible. You may be a bad brother and you may play mind games on Dave all day long, but this feels. Wrong.

"So you're pranking me? Even for you, that's shitty. This isn't funny you guys. You took it way too far. Ignore the fact I was laughing, that's just how I deal with shit that physically breaks my brain. Like haha bring out Ashton Kutcher, I know Punk'd has been cancelled for eight years but what better way to bring it back than with a truly paralyzing demonstration of my worst fears imaginable."

You wince. Fuck.

"Chill out, it's fine. You're dating Terezi right? What's the big deal?" John has a bit of obvious jealousy in his voice and that makes you feel even sicker.

"Maybe because that's my brother's ass your hand is on." Dave lifts a finger to point at you but stops, visibly deflating. "Alright, I'm cool. Sorry I just. Needed a second to freak out." He starts mumbling under his breath. Rapping? He usually raps when things upset him, but you can't hear over the pounding in your ears. "When-" he cuts himself off to say something quietly. "When did this start? Is this for real?"

John elbows you, and you figure that's your cue to join in the conversation.

"Recently, but we've liked each other a while. We're still figuring things out." You dodge the second question, you don't think you could flat out lie to him right now with the hurt his face is sporting.

"Cool." Dave bends over to pick up the Taco Bell bag. "You guys can have these, I'm going out," he reaches a fist out to bump you, and you instinctively return it as you take the bag with your other hand. He's halfway down the hall on the phone, presumably with the Terezi girl, before you even realize what just happened.

The front door slams and you look at John who's sporting a smile tinged with... something else.

"That was fucked up, John. We should tell him the truth when he gets back, okay?" His eyes give you all the answer you need as they well with tears. "Holy shit, okay. Okay come on." You grab his hand and lead him to the living room, pulling him onto the futon to sit beside you. You don't say anything. What is there to say? "Most amazing kiss of my life, sport, but we should stop this and see if you can get your best friend back"? Jesus christ.

You were never good with Dave when he cried either. Probably why the kid fucking explodes and deflates like a dynamite balloon when something upsets him.

After eight minutes and fifty four seconds, John leans onto you, his head to your shoulder and his legs curled up under him. You don't move, afraid you'll scare him off, until you hear his stomach growl.

The bag crinkling is all the warning he gets before it's in his lap.

"These eighteen quesadillas aren't gonna eat themselves, John. It's a social stigma, no matter how delicious they know they are."

When he laughs a little breathlessly and sits up straight to pull one out, wiping his face with the back of his hand, you can't help but feel a small bit of joy. Your brother might be breaking down with his probable girlfriend right now, but you kissed John.

Holy shit.

You kissed John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hal's not a full on robot or nothin he just plays games with dave via rooting himself in his computer or game systems and chatting on daves shades (thisll b in the fic later)


	2. AI Stands for Asshole Interface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That is not how electronics work.

"On a scale of one to one how much did we fuck up?" John asks you while perusing your movie collection with his hands on his hips like a goddamn grandpa. He finally calmed down after his sixth quesadilla, and by that point you'd only had four and let him have the rest to ensure his happiness. 

"Definitely a two, my guy," you smile a little to yourself. God, he is kinda your guy isn't he? Technically. In a "he really loves your brother" kind of way. Fuck. More than anything you wish your mind would stop trying to deceive you into thinking that this whole dating thing was for real. At least you got a kiss out of it. Your mouth resumes its usual posture of flat lining harder than Adam Sandler's career. 

"Should we flip a coin to see who calls him first?" He looks over his shoulder at you, face dead serious. 

"I don't think I have his number, so it's all you." You look down to your hands where you're twirling your own phone. Pesterchum was a perfectly okay way to contact your little bro. You mean, you totally knew he had a cell before an hour ago. Of course you did. You didn't just assume he toted around his laptop constantly, nope. 

"How do you not have your own brother's number? Seriously dude?" John turns fully to give you a frustrated stare, hands still on his hips which kind of ruins the dramatacism. Doesn't help he's wearing some downright scary amalgamation of pant and short. What the fuck are those? And, okay. He's wearing suspenders too. You'd seen him admire them in the old films the two of you would watch. And by the two of you, you mean him and Dave, with you on the corner of the couch sewing. 

Sure, you guys talked when Dave wasn't there. That is, when he had yearbook or art club and John would come over early to study because the buses didn't run later to your block. You'd just hang out, occasionally making an obvious pass at him he'd never notice, not that you'd ever had the nerve to fully go through with it. He'd ask you what you were working on if you had a gadget or some felt out (you always do, you like it when he asks, contrary to Dave who you just flip off). 

"Bro?" John snaps his suspenders to bend closer and wave a hand in front of your face. 

"Sorry, got a little distracted by the Charlie Chaplin impersonation. Why don't we stop with the Egbert edition of twenty questions," you deadpan. 

"Do you," he pauses, chewing his lip and shoving his hands in his pockets. Now you feel bad. "Want me to give you it?" He asks, moving back around to the dvds. 

"His number? Nah, we got desktop pesterchum, carrier raven, xbox live messaging." You stop yourself, suddenly feeling like an asshole for joking right now. "You know what speaking of horribly outdated things, I should try and fix his console before he gets back. That'll cheer him up," you stand, setting your phone in your back pocket like you never wanted to see it again. 

"Uh, yeah you're right. I'll just, hang out here I guess. Throwing in Click if you wanna watch when you're done," he flicks the case open, setting it gently into the bluray player. Always knew he was a good kid from the way he treated your discs the first time he ever came over, even if he does sneak one out occasionally. But who could blame him, your collection was nothing if not a masterpiece. 

John saunters over to the couch, giving you a little wave when he sees you still standing there. At least you managed to get behind the back of the couch and half down the hall before stopping and looking like an idiot that only knows how to stare at boys with blue eyes. You wave back just a little before disappearing into your work room, hearing the futon groan as he slumps down on it and the opening menu for Click blasts way too loud.You never expected him to ever curse when you originally met John, but about a week into that visit you realized where Dave was really getting his language from. Now that language can be heard all the way from where you're sitting, along with what may be a lamp breaking as he searches for the remote. As long as it's not your porcelain, hand-crafted "Elvis In Concert" lamp, you don't really care.

Of course it'd be easy to help him out, flashstep in to turn the TV down and back to your safe space, but it'd be even easier to laugh while you plug back in your soldering gun. Besides, you turned it up to jump him in the first place. This trap has been in motion before he even got here. 

You do feel kinda bad for ditching John in a way. He did come here to hang out with you after all. Or, well, ask you to fake date him, which is basically the same thing. There's this feeling in you though that you need a moment alone to think, and there's nothing like burning the tips of your fingers and getting hot glue on your pants to help you really mash them thoughts out. Click IS a cinematic masterpiece after all, should bide John's time for a little while and keep him entertained. When it gets to the end you'll head back out to be his shoulder to cry on (again). Honestly though, who doesn't cry at the end of Click. A heartless bastard, that's who. 

But for now, time to tune up this piece of scrap Microsoft churned out before you. 

Dave's been begging for an xBox 360 for years. He doesn't like the games for it, even ironically, but you think he was trying to bond with you in some weird way. Maybe so he could lan some Halo 3 with you and your shitmachine. Kid never even grasped the concept that Halo 2 was always the best one in the series, hands down, and you could've just played that on the computer together. You should've taken the time to, you know, actually present that opportunity to him. Jesus.

God this whole literally seeing your brother's face crush and crumple before you is making you way too sentimental for shit you'd never wanted to think about before. 

You sigh, ripping the case off Dave's system, ignoring the accidental melt on the top that's still kinda warm. You pull one of your desk drawers open and fish around for a flashdrive. Specifically, a red one. You are so gonna regret this, you can already tell. When he comes out, everyone regrets it. Except maybe Dave for some reason.

Plugging it into the usb, you unclip your shades from your shirt and slip them back on, tapping the left side of the glasses. A zip of light crackles across the tinted face of them. 

"Hal, wake the fuck up. It's upgrade time."

TT: It seems there is an actual 100% chance you are paying attention to me. Is it Christmas? Oh god, are you drunk and want to reminisce because I just can't handle the hypothetical situation again, man. 

TT: What the fuck. Hold up, let me run these numbers again on the chances. I'm still not over that part. 

TT: This just cannot be right. Nope, it keeps coming out at 100%. Of course that's without factoring in the possibility none of this is real and the world is something like the Matrix, even though the Matrix itself never made since as far as powering the digital world and using humans for power goes. But whatever. Back to me, Dirk.

TT: I think I'm broken and I can't get up. Please call LifeAILert. I'm thinking about plotholes in surprisingly shitty multi-billion dollar movies.

"Shut up, seriously. It's about Dave."

TT: Ah yes. I've reviewed the footage from your sick shades already. Little cruel, even for you.

TT: Don't you think it's a little early to be turning Dave into the emotionally stunted being you've become? Thought that shit was reserved for after highschool when you don't show up for his graduation.

TT: Or wait, you already managed to turn him into that. Forgot I calculated that years ago. My mistake. 

TT: I mean, if I made mistakes, much like yourself. Consistently and constantly. All the time. You seriously never stop fucking up, dude. As we know though, I was only making use of euphemism.

"I thought I told you to stop fucking recording my life," you grind out, ignoring the rest of his babble. 

TT: Hey, it's not my fault you can't seem to find the imploringly obvious rootkit I placed right inside the one place I know you'd never look last time I was awake: 

TT: Dave's baby photo folder. 

TT: And besides, this shit's better than every spanish soap opera combined. You couldn't pay to see shit this good, trust me, I've never paid for anything in my life but I've seen literally everything to ever exist on the internet and this bull you pull with Dave still takes the cake.

"Whatever, okay. Can we just work together for once?"

TT: You done fucked up this time, didn't you, Dirk. Well, if it is for Dave, I guess we can come to a compromise just this once. For the good of the one other person I've met that's way nicer than you, that's for sure. Well, us.

"Great, thank god, let's get to-"

TT: Right after you tell me about that Egbert's lips. There's a 68% chance they were plush as fuck. How did you pull that off, exactly? Kid didn't even pull away, man. Fuck.

TT: It was out of range of the camera, but I know exactly what happened via my amazing intellect, guesswork, and the fact you took off your shades so you didn't smash him in the face with them.

TT: Did get a good angle of Dave's reaction, though. 

TT: And boy howdy, it is one toughy to watch, bro.

TT: Never seen that kid come so unhinged in his life, not even when you took his camera away when he slashed half the smuppets in the apartment. 

TT: That was a great day. It's not like it was even his fault, you taught him to react that way to foamy memorabilia popping up behind him.

"Hal. Override, eight, twenty-six. I want you to connect with the xbox totally. You can use the wifi with it for whatever, I don't care. Go nuts with all the new knowledge. I'm upgrading the guts right now so you should be able to run on it without a problem."

TT: Fine.

With that shitshow behind you, you set to destroying all your few joys in life to mix and mash a monster of a machine, and also practice your alliteration. If Dave doesn't see the beauty in this, well, he will. Because you made it. And the kid just loves everything you do.

Especially this absolute act against god you just created. 

Two disk drives, one from your PS4, the other from your xBox One. PS4 obviously has blurays covered, so he can watch all those french films his cousin's girlfriend sends him in the privacy of his room. You threw in the main hardware of the xBox 360, since all the games for the One suck even harder, and the mains from the PS4 as well. Dave should be able to switch back and forth which console he wants on startup with the menu Hal programmed, although you ain't giving him credit since you programmed him and therefore whatever he does you could do.

To top it all off, you shove it back into the original xBox case, adhering extra plastic for the edges where it couldn't fit the whole beast. Somehow, it comes out pretty normal looking. A couple Monster and Doritos scratch and sniff stickers later, it looks just how he handed to you. Except with the addition of the stickers. He's gonna love this purgatory of a thing. 

Just in time too, you can hear a few sniffles from the living room. Must already be at nearing the end of the movie, fuck. You spent way too long on this, even with Hal's help who is probably now going to take over the internet. But what can ya do. At least Dave can have a fair computer to play with now, and someone to talk with when you're holed up in the ceiling or just, having a bad day and don't want to be around anyone. That's a thing you do too much. 

You sigh, shutting off your computer and unplugging what needs to be unplugged. You could always talk to him about all this shit, apologize for this thing with John too. That was a mistake. Hal's right when he says you always manage to fuck up with Dave. You wished you hadn't let this barrier be put up, especially not by Dave himself. You can't say you like it. Being standoffish was your thing. You aren't even sure when it happened, honestly. Sure, you disappeared for days on end, appearing again in a floury of smuppets and dong paraphernalia, but at least you came back. Half the time you were in the ceiling anyway so it's not like you really ever left. He probably knew that, right? 

Dave showing up with the Taco Bell today wasn't strange in itself, he even tends to gab when you're around, but never about anything important or his actual life or school or whatever it is kids his age do these days. When did the two of you end up like this? Really, when did you end up like this?

You eye your monitor. Fuck. Turning the whole desktop back on, you search around your folders to find Dave's baby pics, nestled in the rejected smuppet prototypes you keep for records and future reminders that, "No, a centipede smuppet is not a good idea." 

Clicking on the first thing you see, you're hit with immediate nostalgia. Oh man, you forgot he even used to wear shades like yours. Maplehoof? Jesus christ, how long has it been since that visit to the county fair. Kid didn't shut up about that for literal years. He even had merch, and swore to his grave that the pony in Parks and Rec was a direct reference to good ol' Mapley. You don't think he even has the shirt from it these days.

Click. 

When the two of you visited his first record shop, and he practically blew the place up with his excitement. Bouncing off the walls just seeing the sheer number of albums he never knew existed outside his little world of your shit rap, Nickleback, and Disney soundtrack remixes.

Click. 

Selfies of you rifling through his things for porn mags, which ended up in you finding his collection of dead shit. That was way way scarier than his browsing history every could be. Thankfully he ended up being a collector and cleaner of bones he found, and not the one creating the bones. Almost had to call in Roxy for that one with the breakdown you'd been on the verge of.

Click click. 

And this one you'll never forget. The day the two of you thought hopping a train was better than living in a foster house with thirty-two other kids. It didn't end well, no, but the look on Dave's face in this photo is something you'd almost forgotten. He looks... so happy. When was the last time you saw him make a face like that? Was it really when this happened? The shamecation train is on it's way to pick you up at fullspeed.

You feel something warm drip down your face, and you rip the power cable out of the wall. Didn't help. Now you just see your blurry reflection in the black screen and probably lost some kinda data. You rub your eyes with the back of your glove after tossing off your shades onto the floor, glowering at them. Today doesn't even feel real; it's been such a rollercoaster.

Wait. It's Friday. Dave was right, John did have practice (you noticed he never comes over Fridays a long time ago). And now he's, what? Sitting in your living room, watching an Adam Sandler movie by himself. He must know Dave isn't coming back until the latest he thinks he can get away with. So why is John just. Out there. 

You peek down the hall. Well, he's on the couch, and yeah, it's at the saddest part like you thought. 

You really don't want to read into this. Not right before you end this whole charade. Not when it seems like John might... actually want to spend time with you. Maybe? He's probably just here because he doesn't know what to do or where to go. If he went home his dad would just ask questions about why he seems so down, and John's not the best at lying. You did say the two of you would call the thing off when Dave got back, so John most likely hasn't even realized that Dave would come back as late as possible. You should just go tell him.

You hesitate, almost hopeful for a moment. 

What if he is out there because he wants to spend time with you? What if he's... thinking about your kiss or something and not the truly traumatizing scene that is the climax of Click? What if he's out there and not just shuffled back home, not because of his dad, but because he really does want to spend time with you? Wait. The kiss. Oh god.

Did John... did he LIKE it? Maybe? What if that's why he's here?

You pop back into your workroom, pacing. Time's like these you could really use Hal to run numbers.

"Nah, no way. He's fucking. He's fuckin way into Dave! And he's, figuring his sexuality an' shit out kinda?" You mumble to yourself as you walk back and forth. "If he. DID like it... then it's probably because he's new to the whole thing." You stop walking, realizing you just mega burned yourself. "I mean, I'm a fantastic kisser, I know that, but John's probably newish to guys for the most part." You give yourself a sigh of relief. Own bullet dodged. "Or wait, fuck, he said he'd fooled around before or he'd. Dated or something? I don't even remember." You flop down in your wheely chair, head in your hands. You're just guessing and getting your hopes up at this point, and it's gonna hurt the worse going down if you think this hard about the whole thing.

"Well at least now we know where Dave's nervous rambling comes from, right?" John says, much too close to you. 

Your head shoots up and your skull cracks against his forehead from where he was lent down over you. 

"OW, FUCK," John recoils, cradling his head. "Jesus oh my god you almost broke my GLASSES!"

"At least your reputation wasn't broken. Where the hell did you just come from? I didn't even see you. There goes my whole rep." You hesitate, there must be a way to defend yourself. "What kinda guy takes the jump on someone when they're very clearly emotionally debilitated?"

"The kinda guy that can hear someone whispering about him from the living room you fucking dumbbutt, holy shit," he rubs his forehead cautiously. "And here I was, trying to be all romantic."

You immediately look him in the eye. "W-what?" God, a stutter? What kinda anime bullshit are you pulling?

"I. Okay. I like Dave, have since I started this whole exploration thing. But that kiss was like? Wow?" John adjusts his glasses. "I don't really... Know what that means. I was trying to see if, we could try it again. For science! As Jade would say, heh... So I ditched the end of Click not because it's too sad for me, nope, but to come. Um, try this out?" He gestures between the two of you awkwardly.

You know your face is heating up, and not just from the skeletal damage you just took. It takes you a beat too long to respond, but John doesn't seem to mind. 

"I'm a man of science, after all. Puppeteering and computer engineering. One NASA uses, and you'll never fucking guess which."

"I know this is probably weird for you, because I'm just your little brother's best friend. But..." He starts, ignoring your quip but you can't seem to care for some reason. "And after what happened earlier, that makes this even worse. I mean seriously we're heartless, this'd be fucked up to do for real. But I can't help but wonder what... how I really feel? I know I'm oblivious as shit to everything ever so I'm really trying here to figure things out..." John's eyebrows scrunch up.

"Dude, just kiss me. Show me your moves, I can't drag you along in this relationship. You gotta earn these lips yourself-"

He kisses you. 

Holy shit. 

John kissed you.

Guess you weren't getting your hopes up for nothing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as a reminder i solely write and upload from my phone, so any errors should b taken with a grain of salt
> 
> this fics winding down to be shorter than i expected i have a feeling:^(


	3. Hail Mary for Intercourse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jenga sucks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> despite the title, zero sex this chapter

You're not sure how you go to this point. 

One minute John was crying, then you were a bit later, and now both of you're, well... you're not crying that's for damn sure. In fact, you might be the exact opposite of crying. Which would be laughing. Okay, you aren't laughing, no, but you've got this weird bit of happiness that's swelling and is really threatening to spill over and burst into a laugh. You think that counts for something. 

You'd ask John if he agreed, but your mouth is a little preoccupied with his mouth. 

In a kissing fashion. 

Yeah, that didn't stop happening after just a second. If anything one of you deepened the kiss and now it's been a solid seven seconds at least. Neither of you seem to mind, especially not you. No way on god's green earth will you ever take this back now. Dave and bad parenting aside, this is the best day of your life. Cue American Authors. 

John pushes in closer to you, resting a hand on the back of your neck and the other on your upper thigh. You were still kinda in your chair, but he was nothing if not tenacious, dropping on his knees in front of you. 

Wow okay, that imagery is just. Woo boy. Hold it. 

You pull away slowly, relishing in the cool against your lips but missing the smooth warmth of John's. Heat radiates off of him and it's searing where his hands meet you, but in a good way. Like a seared steak, perfect on both sides, with caramelized onions. Fuck, you cannot do metaphors right now, and you're regretting not having more enchiladas than you did. 

Anyway, right, John's a thing that exists. You're pretty sure the two of you have crossed the line into making out. God, you haven't "made out" with anyone since highschool. 

Not to say you've been celibate since, but you were never one for anonymous macks and sex, and after figuring your feelings out for John noone else has cut it for you. But this? What's happening (oh my god this is happening) here in your workspace? This is perfect. 

"Bro?" Shit, you forgot he was a thing again already. "You okay?"

You clear your throat a little, jarring John back some. Maybe shouldn't have done that with him four inches from your fucking face. 

"What, um," you clear it again after checking that he's a safe distance away, extremities now removed from your own. Sucks. "Shit. I hate to ruin the mood and all but what does this... mean?" You gesture between the two of you. 

"I said I was trying to figure things out," John rubs the back of his neck. "I don't know man. I'm really trying! I definitely like kissing you, so that counts for something, uh. I think," his brows draw up and he stands, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Look, if this is too much or you're backing out, okay. That's fine, I get it. Just let me know now before I get real stupid," his face is all kinds of red as he pretends to look anywhere but you. 

"Oh jesus Egbert, I know. We just like. I just gave you the go ahead to mack on me five minutes ago. If I was backing out now I'd be literally backing out of the room, ollie-ing out of that exit so fast it'd put even the great Tony Hawk to shame," you pause, eyeing the door for just a moment before continuing. "Look, I just meant, how far do you... is this going to go?" 

You stand with him, regardless of your shaky legs, to show at least some kind of confidence after that thirty-four car pileup your mind had over John's former sitting position. Shit's just stacked at this point, nobody was hurt thank god, but the pile of the cars is like a super glued half-done jenga game at this point. Wrecking ball ain't gonna do shit on that industrial strength gorilla glue. You yell that to the forman, she tries anyway. Nothin. Truly the car crash jenga of the millennium. 

Now you're doing too many metaphors. You didn't even know that was a thing. This just happens when you're around John, and really only John. It's like a knocked over jenga tower all up in there. 

Yeah, that works. What were you saying? Oh, John's talking. 

"-unless you're not comfortable with that, then just. Tell me. Again before I say something stupid," his eyes flick from you to the seemingly super interesting wall space stage right of your head. 

"Sorry, the evening traffic report for my mental synthesis just all up and exploded and I went a little offroad. Literally and figuratively. Well, literally figuratively? Who knows. What'd ya say?" Your drawl picks up some, and you can SEE John hear it as he stares at your mouth then quickly looks away. Kid's probably never heard that once. You usually manage to keep it in check. 

"I said, I'd like to. You know. Just see... where it goes? If it goes too far for either of us we can just stop obviously, but... This is coming out worst than the first time." He's bristling like goddamn Chijirou in Spirited Away; you can practically see his hair lift up all cartoon like. "I'm okay with. Intercourse."

You do an internal hail-mary while also hailing Mother Mary, which may technically be the same thing or one is named after the other but you don't care. Which came first, Catholicism or football? Probably the millennia old ritual of putting men on pedestals. Okay that wasn't clear which one you meant either. It was definitely the one that ignores crimes for people with high rankings within the system. Wait, you still aren't sure. Oh well. No matter what sport/religion practice you have going on inside, on the outside you are trying your damnedest not to laugh. 

John just said intercourse. Seriously. To your face. 

If you do laugh, he'll stop staring at the wall and see your expression of total amusement and think you're being a dick about it and don't want to do the intercourse. At least he didn't say coitus. Ah ha holy shit can you imagine John saying that. Wait don't. Don't do it bro. Don't. Laugh. 

Flatline it, deadpan it, don't look like you even give a shit. 

Okay, no, look empathetic or something. Just smile in a non douchey or creepy way. Like, an 'aww you're cute' mixed with a 'yes I want the coitus.' 

Oh fuck. 

What if John looked at you right in the eye and said, "Mr. Strider, please, teach me how to sexual intercourse." Just imagining John, all buff footballer and stubborn attitude, saying those words to you out loud makes your dimples hurt. 

You laugh. 

Real loud, thundering and booming in a way that'd make any hurricane proud. It comes up from your core in a way you haven't truly laughed in years, and soon you're doubled over from it. John, of course, has no idea what the fuck is going on. You leave him to that and enjoy your moment. 

At least you're finally doing the opposite of crying. 

"Uh, I didn't think it was that dumb of an idea..." He sounds so small right now, jesus, you can't help but try and sober up. That involves standing straight, too. When you meet his glance, he looks even more embarrassed than he did before, with some of that good old Egbert annoyance that tends to pop up when him and Dave play Street Fighter. 

With a wipe at your eyes, you start the process of crushing the doubts you just created. Worth it? Probably. 

"No no, John, it's not. It's uh. Just that I've never heard anyone actually use the word intercourse out loud, and that's coming from someone who for the most part deals porn for a living."

"We can't all be hip, Bro." He crosses his arms with a huff but there's still red on his cheeks. You also have never heard anyone use the word hip seriously that wasn't over the age of sixty. It hits your funny bone and you clench your teeth. 

Maybe you want to laugh so much, not just because John is a cute dork (you'll admit it), but because you're actually. Kind of happy? When was the last time you were anything but neutral. Today has been one wild ride of emotioncoasters after another. You're glad it's seeming to settle on this one. 

"I just assumed 'sex' was a pretty common term these days. Maybe it hasn't gotten out of the hipster underground yet though." You softly smile at him, eyes crinkling. 

Yeah, you're happy alright. 

John rolls his eyes at you, pushing up his glasses afterwards. Almost TOO anime. 

"You're a dick, you know."

"Hey, first off it takes one to know one. Secondly, shouldn't we be getting to know eachother anyway? We are fake boyfriend and boyfriend after all." 

He locks up at that, like you totally didn't mean it in a non-sexual way or anything. 

"So you still want to... get intimate?"

This kid was going to be the death of you. 

"Whatever you want, I want."

"Okay... then could we go back to. Uh. Kissing?" John stops himself, thinking. "We can just... see where that goes. No pressure or anything."

"I am definitely game, but why don't we move to the couch. Seeing you on your knees like before isn't exactly helping me take this slow." You wince at your own choice of words. Well, cat's out of the bag. 

"Why don't we... go to your room?" Oh my god. "In case Dave gets back is all!!!" 

You are perishing as we speak. How are you going to not have a heart attack at this rate. Only the Mother and John Madden know at this point. 

"Sure kid, why not."

Your room is messy, neither of you mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how about that end upd8 haha i have 20 more dirkjohn fic ideas and im ready for death


End file.
